[With Tristan around, Willa doesn't even need Selene]

[No, no, no, isn't Selene's whole thing dropping cheat codes for Willa?]

[Let's not forget, Willa's Pocket Space used to be Selene's]

[So Willa's just a straight-up thief now?]

[Lowkey feeling bad for Selene here]

[You don't gotta be so mean. The Sorrells adopted her and raised her—she owes Willa]

...

Heh.

Took me long enough, but the Chat Feed finally clicked. I was never the Sorrells' real kid. They found me on the street.

No wonder they treated me like a charity case.

All that "older siblings should give way" crap? That "big sisters must take care of the little ones" stuff from them?

Yeah. That was just for me. Straight-up brainwashing.

I smashed a zombie's skull like a baseball and blew out a breath.

Then I ran to Willa and held out my hand. Her shock flashed for half a second.

"Hurry, come with me!"

"No!" She smacked my hand like it burned. "If you won't save HIM, I'm not going!"

"Cool. Stay then. I'll get help." I spun and took off.

What kind of idiot sticks around to fight a zombie buffet?

"Wait—what?" Willa's voice cracked. "Selene? Selene! Get back here!"

I didn't even glance back.

The zombies were gaining.

Willa hesitated, her lip caught between her teeth. She looked down at Pretty Boy like she was torn.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'll go with Selene. She needs me too. I don't want her to worry."

Then she bolted after me without looking back once.

We made it home one after the other.

The second we walked in, she turned on me in front of everyone. "Selene, that was heartless! You just stood there and let him die!"

***

I waved them over to the window.

"Ah! Zombies!" someone gasped, totally losing it.

"What the hell happened?" Panic hit fast as they spotted the swarm closing in.

"Selene? What did you do? You didn't clear them—how'd you end up dragging more here?" barked Miranda, an old granny with her hands planted on her hips.

"Yeah, Willa never freaks out like this. You must've really screwed up," some guy from the couple added.

I just arched a brow.

Willa's little strays—of course they had her back.

Still...

My lips twitched into a cold, slow smile.

I dropped the bags with a heavy thud.

Every head snapped my way.

"Anyway, enough chatting. Let's split the supplies," Miranda said, eyes practically glowing as she reached out.

Willa was faster.

"Hmph, like passing out stuff erases what you did. Cold as ever," she scoffed, already clutching a bag.

I kicked it out of her reach. "Who said you could touch that?"

"What?" She blinked at the black boot mark smeared across her hand like it was fake.

"You're bullying Willa! I'll beat you up!" Perry, Miranda's grandson, came barreling in like an angry toddler.

I drop-kicked him back without blinking.

The boy flew back a solid two meters and slammed into the floor.

"Waaahhh..." He rolled around sobbing like I'd shattered his whole life.

"Keep it down or I'll toss you to the zombies," I said, ice-cold.

Naturally, the brat just wailed louder.

In my last life, Perry was a menace. He couldn't sleep at night and insisted on having someone play with him.

That noise attracted zombies to where we were staying.

I had to risk my neck clearing the safe zone—again.

Meanwhile, Willa wouldn't shut up about the noise wrecking her nerves. Worried it'd "stress out" her and the baby, I went to shut things down.

Didn't expect just calling out Perry would make Miranda lose it. She started flailing and screeching.

And right on cue, Willa stepped into the spotlight—telling me to let it go.

She'd been whining nonstop, but now she wanted to play the saint.

"Zombies can be killed again, but a child's only childhood should be cherished."

Please. What a steaming pile of crap.

Miranda ate that line up. After that, she was on me nonstop, always poking, always whining.

And just like that, I became the group's official villain—selfish, disruptive, the so-called threat to "group harmony."

Too bad for them, I wasn't playing nice this time.

I grabbed Perry and shoved his head deep into the couch cushions.

Instant volume drop.

"Stop it! Bullying a helpless grandma and her grandson—have you no shame?!" Miranda shrieked, flapping her arms.

I held up a finger. "Shh. Listen."

The growling outside? Way louder now.

Took them long enough to notice.

"What's going on?" the woman from the couple whispered.

The howls in the stairwell echoed loud and clear.

"S-Sounds like they're coming up..."

Silence dropped like a weight. Everyone went ghost-pale.

All eyes landed on me, waiting for answers.

I let Perry go. He bolted to Miranda, shaking like a leaf.

I shrugged, nodded at Willa. "Ask her. She wanted to play hero, so I ran for backup. Locked the door behind me..."

I turned to her. "So not only did you flop the rescue, you forgot to lock the main door?"

Heads swiveled. Willa started shaking, furious. "You're horrible! I was trying to save someone! You could've helped—he died because of you!"

I stared like she'd lost her mind. "You're giving me way too much credit. You dragged a whole horde over here and thought what, I'd solo them? I figured you had some hidden power, the way you charged in. But that was it?"

Zombies hit the sixth floor, clawing at the door.

Everyone froze.

I didn't. I looked straight at Willa. "You made this mess. Clean it up."

"Selene?!" Willa gawked like I'd slapped her. "How can you treat me like this? Aren't you my sister?"

I laughed. "Oh, now I'm your sister? I'm the older one, not your maid. You're dead weight. Can't lift, can't carry, just eat and whine. And now you've got a baby? Be real. If we weren't related, you think I'd have kept you around?"

I grabbed a big bag, dropped a smaller one on the floor.

"Guess I spoiled you too much. That's why you forgot your lane. These people? You dragged them in. Not my problem."

I nudged the bag toward her. "Enough for you and the kid. Whether you share it? Up to you."

Then I looked around.

"The rest of you? Don't bother me. I don't owe you anything."

In my last life, they called me selfish for not sharing supplies.

I didn't care. I nearly died getting those rations—for my family.

Turns out, Willa had been handing them out behind my back. Just to hear a few thank-yous. Then she flipped it on me, said I never comforted her, never cared about her feelings. Claimed I was always breathing fire, scaring everyone off.

They ate my food, used my stuff, clung to me to stay alive.

But when things went south? They were the first to throw me under.

Whatever. Let Saint Willa deal with them.

***

Willa looked wrecked—just stood there like some sad statue.

Head tilted at the perfect angle, of course. Tears rolled down her flawless cheeks in slow motion.

Stubborn. Haloed. All tragic-heroine vibes without saying a word.

Red eyes. Pouty lips.

Total drama queen.

Made my flatbread taste amazing.

I kept chewing, soaking it in.

No wonder she was the female lead. Girl weaponized beauty.

The chat feed lit up:

[Wait, is the plot kinda off?]

["Kinda off"? It's in another galaxy.]

[Selene dipped without blinking—I nearly choked laughing.]

[What about the baby? Tristan's dead, Willa's alone—Selene's a monster.]

The bedroom door creaked.

Cough, cough.

Enzo staggered out, face burning with fever.

He clocked Miranda pocketing supplies but stayed quiet, dragging himself over to sit next to me.

"Don't be mad." He patted my head.

Then glanced at Willa—still crying like she trained for it—and sighed. "You two've been at it since forever. Isn't it time to stop? I heard everything. Don't talk to Willa like that. She's just... too nice. So nice it's stupid. You're the older one—can't you cut her some slack?"

He gave me that soft, pitying look like I was some brat who didn't know better.

I finished my flatbread, looked up. "Hm? When'd your hands come loose? Turn around."

I grabbed a rope and tied him back up quick.

"Whew. Close one."

Enzo had a sketchy little wound and a fever that wouldn't quit. For safety, he agreed to be tied up—just in case things went sideways.

Last time, I couldn't bring myself to restrain him. Locked him in my room instead.

Bad call. The bite was real.

He didn't turn zombie—ended up with a Power instead—but nothing's guaranteed now. I wasn't taking any chances.

"Selene, I know you're upset. I'm your boyfriend. I just want you to be happy. You care so much about Willa... and the baby. I'm scared you'll regret this."

Tch. What a buzzkill.

I smacked him. Hard.

His gold-rimmed glasses slipped sideways.

Then I gave his cheek a light pat. "Shut up, trash."

***

I dragged him back into the bedroom.

"Selene, untie me. Let's just talk." He flopped onto the bed, shirt bunched up, skin flushed and sweaty.

"Enzo." I brushed his face. "You're dying or what?"